


Wings!

by emmykay



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: kakairu_kink, M/M, Romance, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmykay/pseuds/emmykay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wild storms have left behind a lot of things on Iruka's patio. He just never imagined one of those things would be a naked guy with wings. Angel!Kakashi and Human!Iruka. AU, modern setting.  Warnings: Language, spiritual themes, some violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Naruto and all affiliated characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi. This story is written without permission and for personal/fan/nonprofit entertainment purposes only.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Notes: Written for this [prompt](http://kakairu-kink.livejournal.com/704.html?thread=781760#t781760) on the KakaIru kink meme. I haven't read much wing!fic and this is the first I've written, so I'm apologizing right now for any sad cliches, worn tropes, and theological offenses or inconsistencies.
> 
> Prompt: _Wing!fic._
> 
> * * *

The tapping at the patio door alerted Iruka that something unusual was happening.

Sure, he'd heard the news. The weather girl declared that a surprise front had appeared on the Doppler, and based on the barometer dropping like a rock, Konoha would be in a for a hellacious winter storm tonight. It seemed likely to start at half-past ten.

Ugh. Iruka had thought he might go out to meet some friends, but the threat of the storm was enough that he decided to stay in and maybe get some work done. Students who complained about homework obviously never thought about all the homework teachers had to do.

He had listened to the radio while he was grading. The business-like voice of the weather reporter covered the news of amazing amounts of lightning and thunder, roofs being ripped off, perhaps a tornado touching down just outside of town, as if Mother Nature had gotten it into her head to rearrange the skies. A high-pitched giggle about "Getting absolutely soaking wet!" was squelched out and a static-filled version of some old pop song filled the air. Annoyed, he had snapped it off.

That's when he noticed the tapping. That was weird. There was one big old tree outside of his apartment building, but it had been trimmed this summer. Maybe the storm had loosened something on his patio. He pulled back the curtains on the glass doors and nearly had a heart attack.

Crunched next to Iruka's little grill on the miniscule concrete pad, pale skin luminous in the faint light over the patio, stood a full-sized, completely naked man.

Panicking, Iruka leaped backwards, scrambling to get to a phone. The line was dead. Damn it.

The man continued tapping at the glass, looking at Iruka, his silver hair drooping over one eye.

Iruka dug through his bag and came up with his emergency cell phone. He tried to switch it on. Dead battery. He always forgot to plug the stupid thing in. Double damn.

The tapping continued.

Iruka dashed into the bathroom and closed the door. He had no reason why, except that was the single place in his studio apartment that couldn't be seen from the patio. He had to get away from _that eye_.

He realized he could plug in the phone here and call. This was followed with the realization that he had dropped the phone on the way to the bathroom. He thunked his head against the door. The one - ONE - time that he needed his emergency phone was when he forgot it. Sometimes, his idiocy surprised even him.

Iruka's panic began to fade. What the hell was a naked man doing on his patio? It was freezing outside. How did he get on a fourth floor patio? Iruka supposed he could have climbed up, but the surface must have been crazy slick with the sleety mix falling from the sky.

Curious, Iruka hoisted himself onto the closed seat of the toilet and peeked out of the narrow privacy window. It wasn't the best angle, as he could only get a limited side-view, but he was very curious. He tried to ignore the inner voice that sounded suspiciously like his Aunt's about how his curiosity would kill him.

From the side, Iruka could see the man had enormous white things attached to his back, which were also dripping wet. Wings, maybe. Did those work? Was it some bizarre optical illusion? Or was Iruka himself going bananas?

As if he could sense Iruka's thoughts, the man turned his head toward Iruka. He climbed onto the metal railing and launched himself toward the window, wings spreading to fill the skies. He hovered right by the privacy window and tapped on it.

Holy shit.

Iruka paused at the linen closet and grabbed a handful of towels. Even angels needed drying off, right? Then he grabbed some clothes. Just because.

Nervously inhaling, Iruka slid the glass door open. With a wet flutter, the man landed on Iruka's patio and entered the apartment, filling it with not only those amazing wings, but his own perfect self. Which was completely naked.

Hoo boy, Iruka thought. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

The wings dried to a very light grey. The angel held them out until the worst of the moisture wicked out, the wingtips nearly brushing the walls in narrowest dimension of the studio.

The pants and underwear worked. The shirt - not so much. The wings got in the way. Iruka would have to think about that. Not that he'd ever thought he'd be in the position of figuring out how to dress the equivalent of a human man-bird.

"I am Kakashi," the man said, his voice a mellow baritone. "I'm an angel."

"I'm Iruka. Umino. I'm human," Iruka replied. "Nice to meet you. So, um, yeah. Why were you on my patio?"

Kakashi looked at Iruka with a single dark eye, the other seemingly scarred shut under his fall of silver hair. "I was sent."

Iruka frowned. "What?"

Kakashi shrugged. "I was sent."

"By whom?"

"The Universe."

"Why?"

"It was time."

"Time for what?"

"A mission." Kakashi's expression was unreadable.

"Right." Iruka swallowed. That gaze was just a little too intense. Maybe he didn't need to know what it was time for. "Would you like something to drink?" He stood, ready to escape to the kitchen nook.

"No."

"Well," Iruka said, "I really need a drink."

* * *

Iruka settled Kakashi on the couch. Kakashi seemed to find the homey aspects of putting sheets on the couch amusing, even though his "helping" only twisted the fabric around.

"I'm sorry about the couch - it's probably a little short for you," Iruka apologized.

"I will be fine," Kakashi said, looking down at the white and navy striped fabric.

"There are more blankets in the linen closet, if you get cold."

"I will be fine," Kakashi repeated.

"I'm not used to having company," Iruka explained nervously.

"I will be fine."

"Um, okay." Iruka went to the bathroom. _Ugh,_ he thought. _I'm changing in the bathroom like a 12-year-old boy in a locker room._ And yet, it just didn't seem right to be all free and open with Kakashi around. Although that really didn't stop Kakashi from being perfectly comfortable naked. And Iruka really really really wished he could stop thinking about Kakashi being so perfectly naked.

Oh, damn.

Iruka slid into his large bed, determinedly turning his back on the angel. He had purchased the bed in a fit of optimism a few years ago, but had remained its sole occupant ever since. He had found some solace in the idea that he was just really picky instead of, well, anything else.

After the initial weirdness of having some strange person - some strange angel - in his apartment, he slid into an unusually comfortable sleep.

He woke up sometime during the night, blinking at the unaccustomed light at the other end of the living area. He remembered leaving it on, so Kakashi could make his way around the apartment if he needed to. Kakashi had said, naturally, that he would be fine.

Kakashi was perched upright on the arm of the couch, wings hanging loosely, hands open on his lap. His head was bowed slightly, his eyes closed. The light behind him made it look like he was wearing a halo.

* * *

At work the next day, Iruka found out the full extent of the storm's effects. Every one of his single women and gay men friends had an angel. Some had brought their angel to work with them. It was an elementary school, so angels were roped into helping with things like craft and play and song time. Some, but not all, of the angels sang beautifully. All of them knew many languages, which helped out the foreign students immensely.

Story time was immediately deemed Non-Angel-Time. The only stories the angels knew contained very strong ideas of absolute good and evil, theological themes of spiritual struggle, and were heavily larded with violence, bloody imagery, and often dubiously consensual sexual situations. In other words, Not Suitable For Children.

The children were fascinated by the angels. Iruka could see the allure. First, there was the shock of all the colors. There were the reflections of human pigmentation. Then were yellow ones with spotted brown hair, green ones with yellow hair, a pale blue one with hot pink hair. Anko, who taught art, had one with punk-purple hair that matched hers. Wing color seemed to match hair color, but didn't seem to have any relationship to the size and number of the wings. Iruka saw angels with a single set of cute little baby-Cupid like wings, others multiple layers of wings.

No matter the color, they were beautiful, each on their own way. Some were tall, others short. Some were lean as whippets, others as sturdily built as brick walls. Some seemed like the most perfect hair-less humans, others more like animals. One even had cat ears and a tail. Kurenai, who taught in the classroom next to Iruka's, had one that seemed positively bear-like. But, like Iruka, none of the humans were very good with figuring out how to dress angel torsos. The best Iruka had seen was Anko's, who had put hers in rainbow-colored suspenders and a smock with ripped-up sides.

The angels were just as fascinated by the children. Iruka could only smile at the earnestness to which one angel listened to some children explaining that you needed glue for glitter. Apparently, in Heaven, you didn't.

* * *

On his trip to see Principal Sarutobi, Iruka swung by to see Suzume, the school's Administrative Assistant, and his first friend at work. She sat at her desk, busily typing.

"Good morning," Iruka called.

She looked up, her eyes glittering behind her staid middle-aged lady glasses. Her smile was like nothing he'd ever seen on her. It was like the first spring sun dawning over a winter horizon.

"What's going on?" Iruka asked.

She nodded over at the far corner of the office. Sitting on a chair, reading the newspaper, was someone oddly familiar looking. "He came back!" she whispered, ecstatic.

Trying to be friendly, Iruka said, "Hello."

The angel nodded, his little bald spot dipping. There was something so... so familiar about that bald spot and the way the light hit it...

Iruka inhaled so hard, it hurt. The angel looked familiar because Iruka had been looking at a picture of that face in this office ever since he started work. He was Suzume's husband, dead these past four years.

* * *

"Where's your angel?" snickered Anko, once she had a free moment away from her class.

"Where's yours?" Iruka deflected, wondering where one could stash a nearly six-foot tall purple angel.

"Takumi's helping the kids with their collages," she said. "So, where _is_ yours? You did get one, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I got one," Iruka said indignantly. "He's at home. He wanted to come with me, but I didn't know we were _allowed_."

"Don't be snotty, it's not becoming. What's his name?"

"Kakashi."

"Aren't you afraid he's touching stuff?"

"Nah," Iruka replied, off-hand. "I don't have anything anybody would want to steal."

"They're angels. They don't steal. They don't lie. They don't covet. They don't cheat. They don't have egos. I don't think they've got ambition, either. It's part of their nature. But Takumi is incredibly curious. Shizune told me that hers is too. Yours is probably messing around with the stove and setting things on fire or turning on your computer and looking at your - "

Iruka's eyes widened. _His porn!_ "Oh, shit," he swore.

* * *

Immediately after walking some students home, Iruka rushed back to his apartment.

What was Kakashi going to do when he found Iruka's large, barely-hidden-beneath-the-mattress stash of porn?

Iruka sprinted several blocks, played chicken with traffic, and dashed up three flights of stairs.

Kakashi turned curiously away from looking out the window when the door burst open.

Nothing in the apartment appeared to be touched. Iruka sank to the floor in relief. "Hey," he gasped. "How - was - your - day?"

Kakashi stepped towards Iruka. "You don't seem well."

"Oh. I - am - fine," Iruka wheezed. He reached up to pull his keys out of the lock and shut the door behind him. He settled back on the floor, waiting for his heart to calm down.

Kakashi looked at him quizzically, then returned to scanning the skies.

"Hey." Iruka reached into his backpack and pulled out a small piece of dark fabric. "Come here, please."

Kakashi walked over and reached down to retrieve it. "What is it?"

"It's an eyepatch," Iruka said. "Anko, she works with me, she made it."

"Why?"

"Because I thought it would be nicer for you?" Iruka said nervously.

"Ah." As if trying out the words, Kakashi said, "Thank you." He looked at the eyepatch again, like one might at a mystery dish in a restaurant not of one's choice.

Iruka stood up. "Here," he said. He took the patch from Kakashi. They were nearly the same height, but Kakashi had an inch or two on him. "Bend towards me a little." Iruka reached out and placed the patch over Kakashi's closed eye, tying it behind his head.

The silver hair had dried to a kind of a wind-swept updo. It smelled very very _very_ good. A bit like rain, a bit like wind, and a bit like the smell after lightning strikes the earth. Iruka swallowed, nervously. "There," he said, stepping away. "I think that should do it."

"Thank you," Kakashi said gravely.

"You're welcome," Iruka smiled.

"Iruka?" Kakashi asked, a wondering note in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"This morning, when you said I should feel free to be myself in your apartment? That you don't mind sharing?"

"Yeah. Feel free to eat anything in the fridge or leave if you want or wear any of my clothes," Iruka offered. He interrupted himself. "People from work want to meet you. How long do you think you'll be staying?"

Kakashi said, "I will stay for as long as you want me."

Iruka looked at Kakashi, hopeful, tentative. "Maybe I should have another key made up. If you want one."

"Yes. If that is what you want."

"Yes." Iruka smiled.

"This morning?" prompted Kakashi.

"Oh, yeah, you were saying?"

"How do you feel about sharing these?" Kakashi held out volumes 1-3 of Icha Icha Paradise.

* * *

Clothing for Kakashi was something of a brain-teaser. The lower half was human, so that was easy. This was also true of Kakashi's front torso, even though it was disproportionately wide for someone his height, even including the slight hollows along his side for the wings. But it was his broad, impossibly muscular back that was tricky. Iruka blamed the wings and the second set of shoulderblades. Sure they were beautiful and functional. But they were also awkward and big and bulky as heck.

But Kakashi needed to put on _something_ if he was ever to go out. Iruka took a sheet and draped it over Kakashi's torso, toga style, and then knotted a bathrobe belt over it. He studiously ignored the dry heat of Kakashi's smooth skin underneath his fingers, and the shape of the angel's distinctly human hips under his old sweatpants.

He leaned back to check out his handiwork.

"What do you think?" he asked Kakashi.

Kakashi shrugged.

"What did you wear, you know, up there?"

"On the Ethereal Plane?"

"Yes, yes, while you were on the Ethereal Plane," Iruka said, happy he had words for things he only had vague concepts for previously.

"We don't wear anything when we manifest."

"Don't you get cold? Like yesterday in the storm?"

Kakashi thought a moment. "I think my tolerances for cold and heat are different from yours."

"What _do_ you consider cold, then?"

"The fall through space to come here." He shivered.

Iruka had to stop himself from reaching out.

Kakashi looked down at toga. "This is not very functional."

"You," Iruka accused, "have no eye for fashion."

* * *

As they walked to the cafe, Iruka saw how other people gave them a wide berth. He would have assumed it was because of Kakashi's obvious _angelness,_ but his experience at school was just the reverse. Adults and children alike loved angels. People flocked to them, wanting to touch their wings and hair and skin, absorbing temperature and texture. They wanted to hear angelic voices. People couldn't stand not to be around angels if they knew one was in the vicinity.

Every angel except Kakashi.

* * *

Kurenai's angel, Asuma, stood outside of the cafe, finishing a cigarette. The other angels huddled over a separate table. It looked like they were comparing notes. All except Kakashi. Iruka couldn't help noticing the space even they gave Kakashi.

"I didn't know angels smoked," Iruka commented.

Kurenai blushed.

Anko nudged her, hard. "What? What?"

"Well, after the first time we, you know, I needed a smoke, and then he wanted to try one. Now, he wants one after every time."

"What!" cried Shizune. "You mean-? Just now? How many times? It's been less than 24 hours! OH MY GOD!"

Every angel's head snapped toward Shizune.

"Sorry, sorry," said Shizune, bringing up her hands apologetically. "I didn't mean it."

"But they're angels - " Iruka said, nervously casting his eyes toward Kakashi.

Anko shrugged. "They seem to be interested in making us happy. If that's what makes Kurenai happy," she lifted her glass in Kurenai's direction, "then you go get it, girl."

Iruka looked at Anko. She was glowing. A peculiar, satisfied sort of glow. "Don't tell me you - and your angel -"

Anko grinned. "Yup. S'wonderful. S'perfection."

"Not you too! OH MY G-" Shizune cut herself off. "What about love? What about permanence?"

"What about disease?" Iruka said, hating to be the naysayer but feeling the need to be realistic.

Kurenai said softly, "Asuma says angels have immortal immunity, so it doesn't matter. And they're supposed to be able to heal, so -"

"No, no, no," Shizune said, shaking her head vigorously. "Not magical healing co - "

"Yup," Anko said. "You betcha. See this?" She pointed at her upper lip. "Cured my cold sore like that." She snapped her fingers.

Iruka winced at the image. "Anko, you need to keep that stuff to yourself."

"You asked!" Anko retorted. She tossed her head. "Besides, you've got to take happiness where you can get it. Did you see Suzume today? I'll bet you a million dollars that she's snatching her happiness with both hands." She punctuated her words with a crude double-fisted butt-grabbing motion.

"Yes, yes, I get it, Anko," sighed Iruka. "But why you gotta be so gross?"

* * *

One morning, Iruka got up, made tea, and showered.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Kakashi stood by the door.

"Are you going out?" Kakashi asked at the unaccustomed sight of Iruka in a full suit.

Iruka nodded.

"Where?"

"You can come, if you want," Iruka offered, shrugging into his overcoat.

* * *

They passed through an iron gate, by carved stone angels and by several small plots before they reached a simple granite marker, large enough for two. "Beloved Wife and Mother" said one side, the other, "Beloved Husband, Brother and Father."

"I was eleven when my parents died," Iruka said. "Car accident." He brushed bits of leaves and twigs off the stone. The winter had been mild, and there was very little maintenance he needed to do to the site. He placed flowers on the graves and bowed his head.

He remembered waiting in the hospital with his aunt, sitting on the hard couches. He had felt terribly sad. For the briefest of moments, something had very lightly wrapped around him, and there was a ghostly, gentle brush on his hair. And he had been comforted.

He looked up at Kakashi. The angel stood a little distance away, underneath one of the stone statues that dotted the cemetery. He seemed completely at home here. Something in Iruka smiled at the comparison of the stone angels, in their demure silence and weather-worn edges to Kakashi's living, breathing warmth. What those stone masons were missing.

"C'mon," Iruka said. "It's cold. Let's go eat."

* * *

Because Kakashi seemed to just hang around the house all day, Iruka asked him to wait for a delivery. When the package came, Kakashi pointed it out to Iruka when he came home from work.

"Ah," Iruka said happily, opening up the large box.

"What is it?" Kakashi asked.

"Just wait and see."

An hour later, screws and wingnuts and dowels and wooden slats and unknowable parts were scattered all over the floor. Iruka stared at the diagrams in the manual and swore; filthy, disgusting swears.

Kakashi looked up from Icha Icha. "What's the matter?"

"This stupid frickin' thing!" Iruka cursed, kicking a piece of cardboard and industrial plastic wrap.

"May I see?"

"Sure," Iruka abdicated, throwing down the little wrench that came in the box. "Ugh, anything to get away from this stupid thing!"

Kakashi skimmed the manual, eye flicking between the pages to the parts strewn across the once-open space of the living area. Iruka could almost see the wheels turning under that messy silver hair. With a nod, Kakashi set to work.

Ten minutes later, a fold-up futon couch sat in place of all the scattered parts. A few extra pieces lay in a pile in the box.

"How did you do that?" Iruka asked, goggling.

"It's easy to decipher if you understand human linguistics. The manual is written is the simplest diagrammatic present tense. There are some errors and omissions in the text, but those are overcome with basic logic."

"Well, okay," Iruka said. He was still impressed, but now he was also sort of annoyed that he was incapable of understanding a manual that consisted almost entirely of cartoons.

"That's why I like Icha Icha so much," Kakashi offered.

"How is putting together a couch like Icha Icha Paradise?"

"I like thinking about the diagrams of how the people would fit together, emotionally and sexually. Of course there are some errors, but those are probably just some editing errors. Otherwise, the author is sorely mistaken about humanity's physical limits."

"You know about sex?" Iruka asked, uncertain if he was ready for the answer.

Kakashi nodded.

Iruka should have known - angel sex was all Anko and Kurenai and finally Shizune could talk about. But he hadn't wanted to think about it. Sure, it seemed like all he was doing was thinking about Kakashi, but it wasn't the same. Not at all.

"Where do you want it?"

"What?" asked Iruka, startled out of his musings.

"Where do you want to move this couch?" Kakashi asked, completely oblivious to Iruka's wayward thoughts.

"Well, it's for you," Iruka said nervously. "I needed a new couch anyway. Where do you want it?"

Kakashi stared so hard, it was comical. "For me? Thank you."

That evening, Iruka heard Kakashi tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. Finally, he got up and suggested Kakashi sleep however he was most comfortable.

"I can't sleep lying down too well," Kakashi admitted. "The wings get in the way."

"Oh. Sorry. What a crappy surprise," muttered Iruka.

"It's wonderful. Please," Kakashi said, "Please sit with me, for a little while? On this wonderful new couch?"

Iruka moved to Kakashi's side. "Why do angels know so many languages?"

"We are the Universe's messengers. We know the human languages that are spoken at the time we were created. The younger the angel, the fewer the languages."

"How many do _you_ know?"

"All of them."

"I don't believe you," Iruka said. "Show me."

In an aural blur of vowels, consonants, tones, clicks, swallows and trills, Kakashi spoke.

"What did you say?" Iruka asked.

"Those are some of my names."

"Know any others?" Iruka tried as hard as he could not to be snide.

"I know animal languages."

"Get the fuck out!" Iruka erupted, astonished.

Kakashi tilted his head. "Do you mean I should leave?"

"Oh, no. That was just a figure of speech. I was trying to ask if you were kidding me."

"I am not kidding." Kakashi growled, roared, bellowed, mewled, oinked, mooed, grunted, honked, snorted, whined, hissed, peeped, sang, tweeted, and in general made sounds Iruka was certain he'd never even heard in any animal documentary, never mind from a human-looking face.

"Holy crap," Iruka said. "Got any more?"

"There is the language of the Celestial Plane," Kakashi said.

"What's that sound like?"

"I can't," Kakashi said. "Speaking that here would tear open the portals between the different planes of existence."

"Is that what happened the night of the storm?"

"Yes."

"I guess I wouldn't want that to happen. Gorgeous man-angels falling out of the sky onto my patio. Not again."

Kakashi chuckled, a surprised and pleasant sound. "You sure?"

"Absolutely sure. One angel at a time is about all I can take." Iruka yawned and slumped down, exhausted. He leaned against Kakashi's shoulder, which smelled fabulous. An angel. Here. Who spoke every language, like, ever. Who was weirder than anything he could have imagined. And a genius at assembling do-it-yourself furniture. Who would believe it?

Kakashi shifted around until Iruka's head lay in his lap. As he drifted off to sleep, Iruka felt, or thought he felt, Kakashi's hand tentatively touch his hair. He heard, or thought he heard, Kakashi's voice saying something in a language he didn't understand. It was the most beautiful thing he thought he'd ever heard.

* * *

Suzume seemed less happy these days. All Iruka could manage to get her to explain was that: "Things may not have been the way I remembered them, good and bad."

* * *

Living with an angel was weird.

Kakashi didn't eat very much. He didn't sleep very much. He didn't go into the bathroom more than once a day for whatever he did in there. He didn't leave the house often. He didn't seem to do very much of anything. Although he seemed to very much enjoy Icha Icha and had asked for more volumes.

Iruka tried talking to Kakashi about it. "Is this a problem for you? Having a, uh, body?"

"No."

"You really don't want to eat more?"

"Don't need it," Kakashi said.

"I'm just worried about your health. And your hygiene. I mean, your mental hygiene."

"We were trained about such things before we came down here."

"Um, okay. Some of the other angels, they've found things to do. I think this was stuff they did before they came down to Earth. The secretary at work, Suzume, her husband has kept all of his past memories and skills. He's back at work at his old job."

Kakashi blinked, interested. "How did he die?"

"Stroke, I think. It was sudden."

Kakashi nodded. "If it were a violent death, he'd never have been able to come back. He'd have been stuck on this plane of existence, forever haunting the spot he died on."

"That's terrible," Iruka blurted.

"Yes," Kakashi said. "Nobody wants that." He returned to his book.

Iruka couldn't figure out if Kakashi had commented on a generalized lack of desire for a violent death, being stuck on this plane of existence, or haunting the vicinity one's death. He decided that Kakashi meant all those things, and tried to move the conversation onward. "So, what did you do, before you came here?"

"It's not a job that translates well here, on the Physical Plane."

"You mean that stuff about your mission?"

"Yes," Kakashi nodded.

Iruka sat back. While Anko had maintained that angels couldn't lie, she hadn't told him that angels could prevaricate. It would just be Iruka's luck that his was the only one that could. "Aren't you bored? Sitting around all day?"

"My sense of time must be different from yours," Kakashi commented. "What seems like "sitting around all day" to you doesn't seem like very long at all to me."

Iruka had to admit Kakashi had a point. For an immortal, a day probably wouldn't seem very long at all.

Kakashi seemed struck by something Iruka said. "Do you want me to get a job? Would that make you happy?"

"Oh, no," Iruka said. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I just want you to be happy. I heard some of the other angels have meetings. Don't you want to go?"

"I don't think that I would be welcome," Kakashi said. "I belong to a different order than they."

* * *

Kakashi went with Iruka to school the next day. He was given jobs as playground monitor and cross-walk attendant. When he wasn't doing that, he spent the rest of the time standing outside of the windows to Iruka's classroom, staring off into the sky.

Iruka would have objected, but somehow, having Kakashi right there made the students stop gazing out of the window and concentrate on what was going on in the classroom a little more.

* * *

One day, Iruka noticed that Anko's angel wasn't showing up for class anymore. "What's going on?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Our time is over," she said. "He's gone."

"What?"

"I'm happy to be with him, but I'm also happy by myself. Takumi understands that."

"Are you sure? He's an angel. You said he was perfect."

"Yeah, perfect for me then. But not anymore. I've never bought into the whole "match made in heaven for eternity thing," unlike _some people,_ who had to have angels drop out of the sky to even start dating." She nudged him.

"You sure?" Iruka asked, still worried.

"It's cool. I'm fine. Actually, it also ended perfectly." Anko smiled. "I'm more worried about you. Haven't you done the nasty with your angel yet?"

"Um." Iruka blushed.

"That, my dear, is genuinely worrisome," Anko tsked, shaking her head.

* * *

It wasn't that Iruka wasn't aware of Kakashi. He'd have to be dead, buried and eaten by worms to be unaware of Kakashi. Even then, it was an iffy thing. He was beset by images of Kakashi when he least expected it - the still way he would sit, the knuckles of his hands, the flash of a wing as he turned.

Iruka hadn't been lonely before, not exactly. But it was as if Kakashi came and filled in some unknown emptiness in his life. Time spent with Kakashi was just better. He slept more soundly now that Kakashi was in the apartment. He tried to make more interesting food. He took Kakashi to the library, trying to get Kakashi interested in books beyond Icha Icha. They went to museums and music programs and the occasional budget sporting event.

In trying to show Kakashi what was so good about mortal life in Konoha, Iruka found out that he genuinely enjoyed these things himself. Kakashi seemed to enjoy Iruka's efforts, even if, like the excusions to the library and the odd burned dinner, they ended in total failure.

The time they had together was good enough as it is. He didn't want to ruin it. He did wonder, though.

* * *

Iruka was laughing at something stupid, some misinterpretation of human-angel interaction when he said, "I love you - it. That. I mean, I love that." And he turned as red as a tomato.

"I love you, too," Kakashi said casually. He pulled a book out of his back pocket.

It was only by dint of Kakashi's wings and impossibly good balance that he wasn't bowled over by Iruka's embrace.

Kakashi caught and kissed him.

Iruka kissed him back, shaking. He wanted this, so very badly. Iruka couldn't get over how he just wanted to absorb the warm skin, the feathers, the hair, everything. He couldn't stop touching. He never wanted to stop touching.

The wings were difficult at first. They were awkward and very much in the way. Then Iruka began to understand. As he was rushing toward completion, they flapped and stirred the air around him. He looked at Kakashi's ecstastic expression as he first shouted and then laughed, and it was like they were being carried away.

* * *

Anko, Kurenai, and Shizune were all in the teacher's lounge when Iruka drifted into work the next morning.

Anko took one look at Iruka's blissed-out expression and said, "It was awesome, wasn't it?"

Iruka flushed. "S'wonderful," he admitted. All three women nodded in agreement. He paused at the coffeemaker, which was way above its usual level. Then he saw Kurenai with a mug of milk, not her usual bitter black brew. "Hey, Kurenai, how come you're not drinking any coffee? You're usually on your third cup by now."

It was Kurenai's turn to turn pink. "I'm quitting."

"Health kick?" asked Shizune. "I noticed you weren't having your cigarette break anymore."

"No. Um... no."

Shizune stopped short, gasped audibly, and announced, "Oh my God! You're going to have a baby!"

Kurenai turned red. But she didn't deny it.

Anko grabbed Kurenai and spun her in a circle, spilling milk on the floor. "Baby! Baby! Baby!" Anko chanted.

"This is wonderful," Shizune declared, clapping her hands.

Kurenai hushed them. "I still need to ask for leave for next year. Don't tell anyone else until I talk to Sarutobi."

"I didn't know angels could make babies," Iruka said, afraid he was being nosy.

"Asuma," Kurenai started and got choked up. She tried again. "Asuma gave up his immortality so we could have a baby."

* * *

"Why are you here?" Iruka asked. "Why me?"

Kakashi sighed and put away Icha Icha. "I don't know if I should be saying anything."

"Of course you should. It would make me happy." Iruka felt caught under the steady beam of Kakashi's eye. "What were you? On the Ethereal Plane?"

"You know," Kakashi said, his nostrils flaring, his breathing very even.

"How could I possibly? The first time we met, you were naked dripping wet on my patio."

"We have met before."

"What?" Iruka frowned. When had he ever encountered anything like the feeling he got around Kakashi? Iruka sucked in a hard breath. "Was that you? In the hospital? After my parents -?"

Kakashi nodded.

"Are you - are you my guardian angel?"

"No. I was there for other reasons."

"Why would an angel be at a hospital if not for - " and he had to sit down. "You're - !"

Kakashi nodded, his eye hooded. "An angel of death. I took your parents."

Iruka was eleven years old again, feeling the clutch of his aunt's hand on his shoulder when they heard the news. _"How could you?"_

"It was their time, Iruka. Hardly anyone ever complains when I don't come - or ever says that I come on time."

"But then, why me? Why did you come here?"

Kakashi didn't say anything.

It was like a brick wall hit him. _Holy shit._ "Your mission - you're going to kill me!"

Kakashi said gravely, "No. I'm supposed to take you."

"How, the hell, is it different?"

"It is."

"Why haven't you?"

"I... don't know. Perhaps the time's not right." But he sounded uncertain.

"How long have I got?"

"Days? Months? Years? I don't know."

Iruka was silent, hugging himself, inhaling deeply. After a while, he felt the gentlest brush against his hair.

"I'm sorry," Kakashi said.

Finally, Iruka asked, "Why?"

"Something in you called to me," Kakashi said. "I wanted to understand. I wanted to know you, and you to know me. I wanted to spend time with you, before -"

"I died," Iruka interrupted.

"Before it was too late," Kakashi corrected.

"It still doesn't make any sense," Iruka said flatly.

"In all the ages, there has been few opportunities to understand humans. I took this one, because I had no choice - this is the only time that you and I could have crossed paths. That's why I came."

Iruka shook his head, speechless.

Kakashi stood, wings drawing close to his body. "I am a destroyer of civilizations, I am a killer of men. I am a tool of vengence for the Ethereal Plane." Kakashi's voice pleaded. "Yet somehow, before the Universe began, I knew of you. I loved you when only the concept of you existed. I will love you until only the shadow of you is in my memory, and there is nothing of me and we both fade into eternity." With a little twist of his mouth, Kakashi asked, "Who else could love an angel of death but you, Iruka Umino?"

Iruka stuttered, "I - I don't think I'm ready for this."

"I can wait. I have time. Love is an act of faith. And angels," Kakashi said wryly, "are nothing if not faithful."

"I don't know if I can accept this - " He was speaking to an angel of death about love and eternity and his own mortality. Iruka suddenly felt the need for a drink. Preferably something very strong.

"I knew it was too early for you. I should have held you off a little longer," Kakashi muttered. "What would you have me do?"

"Could you leave?" Iruka asked, a bit hysterical. "I need to think."

"You're not kidding?"

"No."

"I do not know what it is that we have," Kakashi said slowly. "At first, it felt like a gift from the Universe. Now, it feels like punishment." He sighed. "If you want me, call me. I will hear you, wherever you are." Kakashi stood looking at Iruka, and then, like a badly made cut in an old-fashioned film, he was gone.

* * *

"What happened?" Anko asked. "You look terrible."

Iruka looked up from the endless stirring of his now cold coffee in the teacher's lounge. He missed Kakashi terribly and not for any good reason. The angel was kind of lazy and messy and a little too attached to porn. And yet, Iruka was incredibly aware of his lack. But it was better this way. A human and an angel - how could that possibly work out? It was like dating an alien. "We broke up. He's gone."

Anko sat down at the table. "Why would you ever break up with the one being who's made you so happy -"

"He's an angel of death."

Anko froze, and then she choked out a little laugh. "Only you, Iruka."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing." She shook her head.

"What? Really, what does that mean?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, because I know how hard you try to maintain discipline in your classroom." Anko put her hand on his arm. "You are the ultimate bleeding heart. Puppies and baby ducklings probably sprout out of your ears when you're sleeping. If not you, then no one."

"But - angel of death?"

"I could see it. Besides, you hadn't had a boyfriend in a while. And it was about time. Human, angel, angel of death. As long as you're happy, why not?" Anko shrugged. "What else did he say that made you chase him away?"

Iruka looked at his friend sceptically. He did not think she was taking his heartache very seriously. "He talked about eternity. Eternity! And me being a shadow of his memory. And my need calling to him. It was all just too much."

"Wow," she said. "That's kind of romantic. But eternity's a frickin' long amount of time."

"Did yours do that?"

"Nuh-uh. If he did, I think I would have kicked him out earlier. Too freaky."

"You find it reasonable for me to be with an angel of death, and you can have sex with an angel in every possible configuration and tell me about it, but being in a relationship for more than a couple of months is too freaky? You're a weird one, Anko."

"So says you," replied Anko. "I think you actually believe in love and eternity and you still kicked yours out. Now, tell me who's weird."

* * *

"You don't look good," Suzume commented to Iruka as he wandered into the office. "What do you need?"

"I don't remember," Iruka said.

"Maybe you want to turn in those forms," Suzume said, eyes twinkling.

Iruka looked down at his hands to find a folder stuffed with permission slips. "Maybe."

"You okay?" Suzume asked.

Why was everybody commenting on him these days? Iruka shrugged. "Never mind about me," he said. "What about you?"

"I'm good."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Very good," Suzume said, looking full of contentment. "I was upset because Nobu wasn't what I wanted him to be - the image I had in my head. I had to realize that I wasn't ready for him, or ready for all the changes it takes to have him back. But he waited. And he's perfect for me, man or angel. I just had to believe it."

* * *

The school wasn't in the best neighborhood, but many of the local shady characters had dispersed with the angels' arrival. Something else to be grateful to them for.

Still, the teachers kept up with the tradition of walking some of the children home. Today was no different for Iruka. He was wandered across what he thought was an empty lot with his young charge. He didn't realize he was in any danger until someone stood in his way and demanded that Iruka give up his wallet.

Iruka looked around. He was surrounded by maybe six young hoodlums carrying blunt weapons made out of bats and broom handles. One of them laughed as he brandished a knife.

Iruka pressed Aoi into position behind him, away from the gang. He scrabbled into his bag. Where was his stupid phone? Could he never remember the purpose of an emergency phone was for use during an emergency? Damn it. Why was he such an idiot?

"I don't have anything -" he said.

"Liar!" they accused.

"Really I don't -" he protested. Iruka threw his bag towards the knife-holder. "Run, Aoi! Run home!" Then he hurtled towards the rest of the group. Some of them sprang away, but a few stayed to pummel and kick Iruka. Realizing their advantage, the rest closed in, weapons in hand. He wanted to stop and make sure Aoi had escaped, but he found himself in the center of a fury. He couldn't turn, not surrounded like he was. He was beaten along the backs of his legs and he fell over, scraping his hands against the broken asphalt. His head was grabbed and pounded against the ground. A sharp pain bloomed along his kidneys. Someone stomped on his spine, dull aches arcing up his back. He curled upward defensively.

"God," he panted, and a sudden, sharp pain in his side caused him to double over. The knife. He had forgotten that one of them had a knife.

It hurt to breathe. He coughed. His side gurgled as he inhaled. He didn't want to die. But if the angel he saw was Kakashi... _Please,_ he thought, out of breath, _please be the one who comes to take me._

The shadows fell over him and Iruka closed his eyes. It wouldn't be long now.

"K - Ka- kashi," Iruka gasped weakly.

A burst of light beat against his eyelids and the smell of lightning and burned earth filled the air. Wincing, Iruka looked up and saw Kakashi, wings spread open, blood-red eye open and spinning in fury. Kakashi had thrown some of the youths off to the side. A flaming silver sword materialized in his hands.

"He belongs to me. You shall not lay another hand upon him," Kakashi blazed. The wind blew and the air crackled around him as he raised the sword.

"No," panted Iruka, "D-don't - don't -"

"GO," commanded Kakashi, throwing the sword at the fleeing backs of the gang. He dropped to his knees on the ground. He gathered Iruka up in his arms, as gently as someone might pick up a newborn child. "Iruka," Kakashi crooned, his beautiful voice breaking. "Iruka."

"You came," Iruka coughed. He felt dizzy, but the pain was gone. He smiled, his lips smeared with blood. "'M glad. Missed you. Love."

"No, no, no," gasped Kakashi, rocking him against his chest.

"Cold." Iruka shivered, muscles falling limp.

The last thing Iruka saw was Kakashi throwing back his head, roaring in a language that shook the heavens.

* * *

There was the pain - the awful burning under his skin, the sense he was being stretched far far beyond what he thought possible.

* * *

He slowly woke up. Iruka opened his eyes to find he was back in his apartment, his head in Kakashi's lap. Kakashi looked down on him with a single dark eye, silver hair flopping down over the other shut eye.

"What happened?" asked Iruka.

"Merciful Iruka," Kakashi said. "The ones who hurt you - they ran away."

Iruka jerked up, checking his sides for blood or bruises or wounds. He was still in the clothes he wore during the attack. They were torn and stained with dirt and liberally covered with dried blood, but he could only see a few faint silver scars around his ribs. "Why aren't I dead?"

"I gave you part of my immortality," Kakashi said.

"So you're... less immortal? Is there a limit to it?"

"No." Kakashi shifted, looking out the window. "But the Universe wasn't very happy about it. There might be consequences." He turned back to Iruka. "But you needn't worry. What's done is done."

"So I'm a little immortal now?"

"Sort of," Kakashi said.

"Will I die?"

Kakashi nodded. "But not for a long, long time."

"What about your mission?" Iruka asked. "Did you fail?"

"I didn't know how or when, only that I had to be with you when it happened." He admitted, "Seeing you in pain, knowing you would die, that you would turn into a ghost of this plane, I did not know how much that would hurt. A single death among all the others," he sighed, shaking his head. "Perhaps this is why angels are so rarely allowed to roam among mortals."

Worried, Iruka asked, "Will you stay with me?"

Kakashi nodded.

"For as long as you can?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad." Iruka swallowed. "I was going to call you. I didn't mean for it to happen that way. Thank you for saving me," Iruka said. "It's crazy, but I do believe I have always loved you, Kakashi, angel."

"I love you, Iruka. Umino. Human." Kakashi smiled. "Why was that so hard?"

Iruka began to laugh. "To believe in love? I have no frickin' idea."

* * *

_Epilogue:_

There was a tapping on the patio door.

Iruka frowned. It had been almost a year since Kakashi had returned to him, but any noise on the patio still had the power to make him nervous.

He glanced out onto the miniscule pad of concrete. A red-crowned crane was tapping on the glass with its foot. In its beak swung a little bundle. Iruka took a closer look. In the bundle, wrapped in layers of blankets, lay a baby with whisker-like marks on its cheeks. The baby yawned and opened celestial blue eyes. When it saw Iruka, the baby blew some bubbles and shook its head, knocking off its small knitted cap, revealing fine golden hair and little red horns.

**Author's Note:**

> Influences for this fic include but are not limited to: "It's Raining Men" by the Weather Girls, magic realism, "Wings of Desire" directed by Wim Wenders, a childhood of Protestantism corrupted by Dungeons and Dragons, romance novels, and lots and lots and lots of comics, fantasy novels, and samurai movies.
> 
> The red-crowned crane has been historically featured in myths and legends about immortals, sometimes as a messenger, sometimes as a steed. (wikipedia)


End file.
